


the difficulty with mistletoe

by satelliteinasupernova



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, ace spectrum jughead jones, season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 01:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16822456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satelliteinasupernova/pseuds/satelliteinasupernova
Summary: a christmas partysome mistletoeand a boy who likes a girl





	the difficulty with mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much to [kayromantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayromantic) for the beta!
> 
> I was not expecting to write this fic, but it is officially December, and sometimes you just find yourself writing a fic about mistletoe.
> 
> UPDATE: [Yavannie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yavannie/pseuds/Yavannie) drew an absolutely adorable [fanart of this fic!!!](http://yavannie.tumblr.com/post/180802875331) It is lovely, and you should all go look at it! <3

Mistletoe. Of course.

Someone had the bright idea to hang the cursed thing up in the doorway of the Andrews’ house between the entryway and the kitchen. It was bad enough to be at a Christmas party full of Riverdale students, people that Jughead would naturally avoid on any given day, but now there was also the added stress of having to pay attention to where in the house he stood.

Who thought that it was an improvement to the party atmosphere to peer pressure random people into kissing each other in the name of Christmas spirit?

He just wanted to grab a tray of food in peace.

There were too many people in vicinity of the doorway to risk it, so he was forced to take the long way to the other kitchen door, past huddles of people dressed in tacky Christmas sweaters and bright red santa hats that managed to make his own hat look normal by comparison.

So, maybe he wasn’t exactly in the holiday mood.

When he finally made it to the kitchen, he was welcomed by the sight of Fred Andrews pulling a new batch of pigs-in-a-blanket straight out of the oven. “Hey there, Jug, Merry Christmas.”

“And to you,” he responded with a grin as he reached for one of the pigs-in-a-blanket, hopping it in his hand when it was hot at the touch. “Do you need any help in here, Mr. A?”

“What, this?” Fred put his hands out gesturing to a table piled up with snacks. “I’ve got it covered. You should go hang out with your friends. Archie went out back to grab some more wood for the fireplace, but he should be back any second now.”

Jughead tossed another hot dog into his mouth and responded with a shrug. As he pulled a chair out from the table, he could still see the offending mistletoe from the corner of his eye. “The kitchen is always the real life of the party.”

Fred Andrews just laughed.

Behind them, the door chimed. Jughead turned to see Kevin stepping in, hanging up his winter coat with Joaquin entering just behind him.

“Hey, Mr. Andrews, Merry Christmas!” Kevin called, leaning into the kitchen. He had a present tucked under his arm; it was neatly wrapped with a bright red bow. “Where do we put the gifts for the white elephant?”

“There’s a table set up in the living room, or you can put it under the tree. Glad you both could make it.” He was now in the middle of unloading a box of frozen mini pizzas onto an oven tray. Jughead eyed them, happily.

“Hey, Jughead,” Joaquin leaned over Kevin’s shoulder and gave a small wave. He was immediately interrupted by the sound of bells coming from the hallway.

“Ah, ah, ah.” He heard Veronica's voice as she approached, the clicking of her heels growing louder as she moved from the living room to the entryway. When she was close enough to be in view, Jughead saw that she had a bracelet of jingle bells around her wrist that she had used to get their attention. It looked like he had found the mistletoe culprit. “You’ve been caught under the mistletoe, you two.”

Kevin gave Veronica a quick glance, and then looked above him, where the mistletoe was hanging just over his head. He grinned enthusiastically as his eyes met Joaquin’s. Joaquin responded with a roll of his eyes, but he couldn’t contain a smile as he leaned forward to kiss Kevin.

As Kevin cupped a hand around Joaquin’s neck, Jughead turned back to the kitchen, uninterested in participating in the spectacle of it all. There was the sound of wolf whistles, and a light applause coming from the other end of the hall before the moment finally passed. Jughead reached across the table for a half-empty bag of chips.

Steps came in from the other doorway, along with a familiar and comforting voice, “We’re out of sparkling cider. Archie thought there might be some more in here?” Jughead stopped mid-chip when he caught the sight of Betty Cooper in a short red dress and white lace stockings, accompanied with, unsurprisingly, a santa hat on her head. Somehow, the ensemble worked.

But then again, everything Betty Cooper wore worked.

“Oh, hey, Jug!” She said cheerfully when she noticed him. “I didn’t see you get here.” She stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, sending a buzz of warmth through his chest.

“Hey, Betts,” he said, awkwardly with a mouthful of chips.

“Cider’s in the fridge, Betty.” Fred answered, adding, “Maybe you can drag Jug out to enjoy the party, while you’re at it.”

Betty smiled down at Jughead knowingly, “You’re hiding.”

“No. I just found the ideal party spot.”

“C’mon.” She pulled him by the arm. “It’s not so bad, and most of the food is out in the living room.”

He gave a long dramatic groan, pretending that it was a tougher choice than it was. “Well, if you’re that starved for company.”

Betty made a circle around the kitchen to the fridge, and pulled a glass bottle from the door, while Fred handed Jughead the basket now loaded with the recently cooled pigs-in-a-blanket.

“Don’t eat them all,” he said jokingly, as he pushed Jughead toward the door.

Betty linked her arm with his, and led him through the door to the living room. Jughead glanced back at the other door, still adorned with mistletoe, and let out a brief sigh of relief.

She walked them straight to the table of snacks, and quickly replaced the empty cider container with the new one. Jughead grabbed a plate.

As soon as he noticed a couple of empty chairs in the far corner, he immediately shot for them. It was only after he was fully situated that Betty came to sit down next to him. “Could you act any happier to be here?” Her words were sarcastic, but her tone was warm. When he glanced up at her from his plate, she was smiling.

“Sorry,” he said after a pause, “I know you got pulled into a lot of the planning once Archie and Veronica got going with it.”

Betty shrugged, “I wanted to do it. Decorating is always fun.”

Jughead snorted.

She turned to him. “What?”

He realized then that maybe he had given too much away with his mood. He paused, almost wavering under Betty’s sincere gaze. “Nothing,” he said, eventually.

Clearly, his tone wasn’t convincing, because Betty prodded again, “What is it?”

“It’s just…” Nerves bubbled up in his chest even before he spoke, “Was the mistletoe really necessary?”

Her eyebrows scrunched up thoughtfully, “Jughead, what-”

“There you are, dude!” Archie interrupted, completely disrupting the mood. “I’ve been looking for you. How’s the food?”

“Stellar.” Jughead could still feel Betty’s eyes on him, but forced himself to look at Archie, instead. “You’ve got all the good stuff.”

“Veronica tried to veto the junk food, but we convinced her that you would revolt.”

Jughead almost laughed, but he still had that nervous energy jolting through his veins. When he swallowed, there was a lump in his throat. Why was he the only one bothered by this?

In front of the fireplace across the room, Veronica clapped her hands for attention, a jingle of bells ringing along with it. “Everyone come to the living room, it’s time for gift exchanges!”

As Archie walked over to join her, Betty leaned over to whisper in Jughead’s ear. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?”

Jughead huffed, “What, and miss the sight of the lucky person who gets to unwrap the giant PEZ stick I brought? That’s not very merry of you, Betty.”

“I’m serious, Juggie.”

He glanced back at her, and saw it in her face. That determined, steady gaze.

“Yeah,” he responded, truthfully, “Yeah, I do.”

“Okay,” she said softly, without any further questions. She just stood up, and with a hand on his shoulder, led him out past the gathering crowd.

The entryway was empty, and he could already feel himself relaxing now that it was just the two of them alone.

“Let me just get my coat…” she said, already head first in the giant bundle of winter coats piled on the coat hanger.

With a chuckle, he reached out to her, “Let me help you with that.”

Just as he found her light pink winter coat, the door clicked open and they were both shoved to the side. Jughead reached out to catch Betty, just as Cheryl Blossom stepped into the house, a small entourage behind her. “I’m here, I’m sure you’ve been waiting.”

 _No, they’ve already started without you_ , he was tempted to say, but he kept his mouth shut, hoping to keep the interaction as short as possible.

“You’re just in time, Cheryl,” was Betty’s polite answer.

But Cheryl just blinked at them, and glanced above their heads. An alarming, amused look flashed across her face. “Oh, that’s cute. Were you two failures just waiting around to have an audience or…?”

As Jughead followed Cheryl’s gaze, he felt his shoulders drop. Of course. In the last 5 minutes, he had completely forgotten the one thing he had spent the night trying to avoid.

There he was, standing under the mistletoe, with Betty right beside him. Somehow, being trapped with Betty made it so much worse. If it was anyone else, he could just roll his eyes and stalk off, and no one would think twice. But with Betty…

If it was Betty…

He looked down at her, temporarily frozen in the moment.

She was shaking her head at him, “It’s fine, Jughead, let’s just go.”

Was she disappointed? He couldn’t tell. Did he _want_ her to be disappointed?

He could hear people laughing, but it sounded hollow, distant. Betty’s hand was on his arm, and she looked upset.

It was all too much. He reached up and yanked the mistletoe from the doorway. “Screw this,’ he muttered, as he forced it into Cheryl’s hands and shoved his way through the door outside.

“Jug!” he heard faintly in the distance, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down until he made it all the way down the front steps, around the pathway to the front lawn. Just in front of the garage, he finally stopped and sat down on one of the raised bricks that acted as a barrier around bushes in front of the house. It was cold out, but at least here it was quiet. At least he could think.

Soft footsteps made their way over to him, but he didn’t look up. He didn’t know what expression he wanted to see. Pity? Sympathy? Disappointment?

Betty sat down next to him without speaking, her legs stretched out in front of her.

“I’m sorry, Jug,” she said after a few minutes. “When I saw the mistletoe, it seemed like fun.” When he didn’t respond right away, she looked out ahead, her hands in her lap, “but it really does put you on the spot, huh.”

He glanced over at her, but his thoughts were still too much of a mess to put into words. He couldn’t help but focus on the fact that no one else in the house had panicked the way that he had.

Despite his silence, she continued. “Maybe I’ve watched too many movies. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the idea. You know,” she bumped her elbow into his, “You’ll find yourself in just the right place with the person you like. It’ll just be magic, and you’ll have that _moment_. It’s easy to dream, but reality doesn’t really work like that. Instead, you’re stuck in front of an audience with a person you don’t want to kiss.”

He swallowed, “That wasn’t really the problem.”

When he looked over at her again, her eyes were clear, like glass, he couldn’t read anything in them, but her hands were gripped around the fabric of her dress, and somehow, he could sense that she was just as nervous as he was.

“It wasn’t a ‘wrong person’ kind of thing. It was, uh, I don’t know,” he breathed out and looked up at the sky. He could just make out a smattering of stars. He focused them for a moment as he put his thoughts together. “It’s more a ‘social expectation’ kind of thing.”

As he looked down, he meant to meet her eyes, but chickened out at the last second and stared down at the ground instead, “I don’t want to be pressured into kissing someone. Even if…” He leaned his head to the side, but spoke before he could overthink it, “even if theoretically I wouldn’t mind kissing that person.”

He could feel Betty take a breath beside him, but continued to stare intently at the pavement right next to his shoe.

“Alright.” The tone of her voice changed, assured and authoritative. He knew it as her _I’ve got a solution_ voice. “So, what if we took the social expectation part out of it.”

She sat up and reached for her pocket. From the corner of his eye, he could see her slowly pulling out the batch of mistletoe he had torn from the doorway. “What if it was just two people, alone, during the holidays, who wanted to kiss each other.”

He could feel a warmth begin to spread to his cheeks. When he finally met her eyes, there was a conspiratory smile on her face, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling back. “That probably wouldn’t be so bad.”

She held the mistletoe out above their heads and asked, “So, should we try this again?”

Betty was still smiling when he leaned forward to meet her. Her lips were cold, but comforting against his. As he felt her kiss him back, for the first time that night, he stopped worrying.


End file.
